Installment One:A New Beginning (Otherwise known as My Second Attempt)
by BecauseIMissYouBodyAndSoul
Summary: It's MOSTLY 1507. Or 1506, or 1505. Or 1504, or 3, or 2...The point is, it's set mostly in the early 1500s. Mostly. A mysterious girl, with a mysterious past comes to Ireland. She washes up on the shore of Gideon Cahill's island, and he takes her in. But when they go to the Christmas Feast that year, she sets her sights on one certain Dark-haired Lord...And wants to know more.
1. Prologue

**[I would like to apologize for the lack of sense this makes. This is a PROLOGUE, it's the start of something very large, (Of which this particular story is only a very SMALL part,) that no-one needs to read all of.]**

 **[Let's just get a few things straight: (** **Three Things You Should Know About My Writing Style.)**

 **1.** **I ALWAYS follow the story-line.** I add things, but I never take them away. I twist things, but I never take them away, never change them. This is important, so you should know in case it's not your thing.

 **2\. I ALMOST ALWAYS write what you guys call 'Het' or 'Gen'.** I'm not really sure which one best describes it. For anyone who doesn't know what that means, (That was very recently me, so don't feel bad!,) **Het** is basically a romantic relationship between two people who are opposite genders. So, your general style.  
 **Gen** , on the other hand, is a sort of neutral style where Pairings aren't the main focus. So like I said...But it's probably a cross between them.

 **3\. I'm 'Not exactly Traditional'.** So if you have aversions to any of these three items I'm going to list as a sub-category of this section, you should stay away.

 **3./1. Men being anything other than manly.** **(Likewise women being anything other than feminine.)** I believe in humanity of all people, that means men are as subject to crying as women, and women can break things and hold back, too. (I have a friend who thinks that men do not sob. They break things instead. My opinion is that they can do both.)

 **3./2. OCs of any kind.** I consider mine to be well done, and beg you give her a try, but if you REALLY don't like them, please stay away.

 **3./3. I haven't thought of that yet, but I will.]**

 **[And that should about do it for now I THINK. I will try to add more.]**

 **Prologue**

Not so far away from where this story begins, the spirit of a twelve-year-old girl is lost in darkness. A darkness so complete it's all she can see. It seems that it's swirling around her though, like her eyes are still closed. Like she's still dreaming.  
She's wondering what is happening, why this darkness surrounds her, when suddenly, she hears a voice in her head. "Hello." Many voices, but they speak as one. "Who are you?"  
The girl tries to scream, only to find that she no longer has a voice to scream with. "What's going on? Where am I? Kathy!" She screams, but this time in her mind. "You are dead," the voice in her head calmly replies. "You are no longer connected to a world. Who is this person you speak of?" "I'm what?!" She thinks, desperately hoping it's not so, yet at the same time, realizing the sense it would make. But she can't be dead yet. She has to save Kathy.

"Dead," they reply, in that same, calm voice. "Who are you? And who is this 'Kathy'?" "Who are you?!" She demands, frightened that they seem to hear her every thought. "We are the ones responsible for what happens to you now. Although we cannot say we hold much hope at the moment, in the worth of your abilities. What is your name?" "Alegra," the girl replies, feeling that she doesn't really have a choice. "That is because you do not," they answer to the unspoken words. "And we think not. What is your real name?" "That is my real name!" "Your full name, then." If she could be, the girl would be glaring at them. "Princess," she mutters, hoping against hope, that these thoughts, they won't hear. No such luck. "How interesting," they reply, and now there is a sense of amusement in their ringing tone. "Well, if you'd had a crazy Elven mother that for some inexplicable reason, decided to-!" "And the rest of it?" They ask, raising their voice above hers. She fumes silently for a moment, before replying. "Alegra Zelda."

For a moment, there is silence. Then, "How interesting..." They say, but this time, their voice trails off, as though there is more to the thought that she can't hear. "What?" She asks. Again, the sense of pause. Then they reply, "Interesting that you should have such a name." "Why?" The spirit can't resist asking. "Because, a long time ago, we knew someone with the same name, more or less." "What happened to them?" She knows she should stop asking questions, but she can't resist knowing the ending. "The same thing that might yet happen to you." "And that would be?" She thinks, just a little afraid. "She died," they say. "And was reborn."

Immediately, there is a sense of alertness in that swirling darkness. "What?!" The question comes sharply, and quickly. "You heard us," they reply, a slight amused edge on their voice. "She was reborn." "So I could go back?" The girl thinks at them. "I could find her, save her?" "Well, that depends," they say. "On what?" She asks. And this time, they hear only determination in her thoughts. "On what exactly you are willing to do to get that chance."

There is a pause in which the girl wonders briefly what it is they could possibly want of her. "What do I have to do?" She asks. "Good answer," they say, approvingly. "So?" The girl asks, impatiently. There is a slight pause. "You must agree to work for us," they say. Even in death, even in grief, the girl is smart. "And what would this work entail?" "What you seem to be very good at already," they tell her. "Not giving up."

"Not giving up on what?" The spirit asks. "On...People." But something about the way they say it gives her pause. "Exactly what...Kind of people?" She questions. There is a pause, then, "The kind of people which...Others, might give up on. That you would then need to...Help." "Help in what way?" "We already told you." They sound slightly annoyed. "In not giving up on them." The girl pauses, considering. Then, "Hypothetically," she thinks at them. "Why would I be giving up on them?"

"Hypothetically," they reply, this time sounding almost amused. "They might have done some...Things..Which you would need to be able to see past, and...Help them, if you can, in...Not doing those things." Again, the spirit pauses. "So what you're saying," she thinks, slowly. "Is that in agreeing to work for you, I agree to take on these...Assignments, shall we call them? Hypothetically. Which are...Less than savory people..Which I would then try to influence..Into being...More savory people?" She sounds incredulous. "Not...Less than savory, People," they tell her. "More..." And here they pause. "People who have done..Less than savory things. Which we would then assign to you because we believe you can turn them around." "And how would I do this?" "We believe..." They trail off. "Yes?" The girl asks. "We believe it could be done by you simply...Being you." They sound almost surprised by this.

"So all I'm doing," the girl begins, skeptically. "Is agreeing to try and help these people you assign to me, by being myself, but keeping in mind that I need to be more open to whatever faults they might have?" It's the girl's turn to sound surprised. "Yes," they reply. "And in return," she continues, almost guardedly. "I get the chance to find, and help, Kathy?" "Yes." The spirit of the girl hesitates only for a moment. For her, the answer is simple. "Yes."

 **[I hope that this makes sense enough for you all.]**


	2. Chapter One: Guilty Reminiscence

**[I PROMISE I will explain everything that happens in this Chapter in time. I only beg that you give me that.]**

 **[Please.]**

 **Chapter One**

 _"Damien!"_ The word rings in his mind. She'd been so happy to see him. Happier than anyone had ever been in his life; And at fifty-two, that was an accomplishment. Why did he have to ruin it? He closes his dark eyes, and the tears start to fall.

 _She'd come to his office earlier that day. Appearing out of nowhere, as usual. When he'd startled, she'd grinned at him, and told him she loved that she could still do that. Then, she'd asked him over. "It's my unofficial birthday," she explained. "They think they are surprising me, but they're not." He had, as planned, said he was busy, but would come over if he had the chance. They had, of course, planned for this eventuality. They knew how smart she was. She'd been disappointed, which was to be expected, but had understood. It was too bad, though. He hated to see her disappointed. But her delight later, had made up for that._

 _When the time came, at 7:00 sharp, he showed up at their door. He knocked, and Jane answered, then let him in. The instant she saw him, she shouted his name, and ran towards him. Without even thinking about it, he was down on one knee with his arms out, to take the blow. She hit him, and he laughed. He'd been surprised, to say the least. But also pleased; And he hugged her back for all he was worth. He was not the first to let go. He was surprised she was. But she pulled back, then kissed his nose, and told him she was glad he came. As though that wasn't obvious._

 _She sang, and they all danced together. Everyone but him. He just stood back, watched, and listened. She sang strange songs. She had a lovely voice, though. She danced_ with _them, too. First with Jane, then with Thomas, Katherine, and finally Luke. But not him. When she asked, he told her he didn't want to dance, and when she asked why, that he didn't feel well. Which was the truth, he didn't. But she looked like she didn't_ quite _believe him, almost as though she could sense that he was exaggerating. That it was just an uneasy twinge in his stomach. For now. But he didn't trust himself if he were to start dancing. He didn't belong here, and he was starting to feel just how much. But she wasn't to know that. Still. He probably_ could _have danced, if he'd wanted to._

 _Later, when they were just about to start in on the cake they'd managed to prepare, she again, asked him to join. He said no; Politely, of course. He felt worse, now. But she wasn't to know that. And that was his mistake. She thought he just didn't want to be there. She must have. She didn't know that while he was standing there, all he could think about was what he was planning, and how he was standing here, helping celebrate this girl's birthday; A girl who had no idea what he was capable of._

 _But all she did was nod gently, and turn back. They started cutting slices out, talking, smiling, laughing. But seeing this, he just couldn't take it anymore, and slipped outside. He needed to breathe, needed to get away. But as he leaned against the side of the house, she was all he could think about. Her smile, her laugh, the_ way _she smiled, and only_ this _way at him. No-one had ever done that, before.  
Her arms around him... He shuddered.  
'You're so thin...What happened to you?...' The voice, Her voice, echoed in his head.  
He covered his face, running his shaking hands through his long, dark hair, forcing himself not to remember. Shaking. A universal sign of weakness. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to make it stop. He couldn't make it stop. And they couldn't see him like this. They couldn't, especially not Gideon. He turned away._

 _She followed him, of course she did, but she only came outside just in time to see him with his back to the door. He hadn't even moved yet, but that's what she saw, and that's what she took it for. That he was running away._

 _"Damien?" She said, and he turned around, shock on his face. Seeing this, comprehension dawned on her. He could see it in her eyes, and it hurt more than he did. "Where are you going?" She asked, and he could tell by her tone that she thought she already knew. "You are not..." She paused, as though not wanting to confirm her thoughts. "You're not_ _leaving_ _, are you?" She sounded so hurt, the words like knives on his ears. Penetrating so much deeper than that.._

 _He started backing away. "I told you, I feel unwell." He said the words almost guardedly. "You didn't even come to say good-bye!" She sounded as though she were on the verge of tears. He couldn't even tell her that he didn't think he could have, why that was. "If you didn't want to be here that much, why did you even come?" She sounded confused, uncomprehending. He tried to think, but found it nearly impossible to_ think _, and not completely break down in one way or another. "No," he managed. "No, it's not-" he started, but then he had to stop. He clenched his jaw, but it barely helped. "Then_ _why didn't you say good-bye_ _? " She asked, and he'd had to admit to himself, that even though it might have gone terribly wrong, he could have; That she deserved that. He had chosen not to._

 _"Ever since you got here, you have taken part in_ _nothing_ _. I thought you_ _wanted_ _to be here, but if I was wrong, then you should just go." She paused then, taking a shaky breath. But when she spoke, her voice was steady. "You know what, I'm not even here. Just walk away." She paused, and in those three seconds, he could hear in the way she breathed just how much it hurt her to say it. "Like you were_ _going_ _to." The words stung, bringing tears to his own eyes, nearly making them fall. But he had to get away. He had to. "Allie, I-" he'd started, but never finished; For what could there possibly have been to say?_

 _"GO!" She'd shouted, and his mind had obeyed, though his heart didn't want to. It had seemed, though he couldn't see, that she watched him for a moment; Maybe in disbelief, maybe in disgust. But he hadn't been far enough away that he couldn't hear her slam the door._

It happens before he can stop himself. Undignified though it is, he gasps, and starts to sob.


	3. Chapter Two: The Search

**Chapter Two**

All alone, up in her room, sitting on her bed, the girl, Alegra, is crying soundlessly. She can't believe that he left. She can't believe that he didn't say good-bye. It was just so unlike him, yet here she was. Alone. Without him, and not happy in the slightest. And she is also remembering. But different things..How they'd met.

 _It was five years ago. She'd materialized as a seven-year-old girl on the bank of an island in Ireland. When Gideon had found her, she was unconscious, wet, looking for all the world like she'd been washed up by the tide. But she was breathing, so of course he took her back to the house. They'd all nursed her back to health, although they never did figure out what was wrong with her. They never knew that while her mind knew she wasn't poisoned anymore, her body did not. It had acted as though it was still living the life it had been when she had died._

 _That year, Gideon took her to the Christmas feast with them; Apparently a long-standing tradition. But she would trust no-one but him, so afterwards, she followed him to a different table then the one his family was sitting at, where he talked with a man she'd never seen before. Dressed in black, with hair almost that dark, and eyes slightly lighter. But something in her mind had said, "Him."_

 _So Alegra, the twelve-year-old inside the body of someone five years younger, had found a way in. Cunning, really. Just young enough to ask questions, but just old enough to know things. So she opened her mouth, and said something in a language she made up off the top of her head. Just a simple substitution code, a random combination of two, or occasionally three letters for every letter of the alphabet. Something which translated to: "Who are you talking to?" Naturally, the both of them stared. But they stared in different ways. Gideon looked awkward, border-line embarrassed, whereas the other man was staring at her with interest. Here was this seven-year-old, a girl no less, speaking an entirely different language. But not only that...One he had never heard before. He was intrigued. She saw this in his eyes, his dark eyes. How easily she could read them._

 _"I'm sorry," Gideon said. "She knows Latin, but she forgets." At this, Alegra started up again, saying something very very quickly, which amounted to, "How dare you?! I don't forget! I'm doing this on_ _purpose_ _!" But of course, Gideon had not understood. "Allie," he hissed. "Latin please, what do you want?" To which she glared at him, and said something in her strange language. Translated: "You're ruining my plans to intrigue him!" But still, no comprehension. So, reluctantly, she switched to Latin. "Who are you talking to?" She asked, but said his name in her code. Not that he knew it was his name._

 _"Latin, Allie," Gideon said. "That was Latin!" "Why don't you go and sit with the others." To which the reply was swift, and indiscernible to either of them. Then she turned to the man, and asked him who he was, but in Her language, and to her immense surprise, he answered. "Lord Vesper," he said, his keen eyes watching her. She stared at him in shock. She hadn't expected that. Then she turned to Gideon, and said, "Smart human," in words she knew he wouldn't understand. She was right. His brow creased ever-so-slightly, all the words in the world to tell her he hadn't understood._

 _So she looked back at him, and switched haltingly to Latin. "I told him you were..." She flicked her eyes to the sides, as though trying to find the right word. "Smart," she finished. "Um..." She gasped quietly. "Intelligent." To which Damien had looked at Gideon with a clear expression on his face as if to say, "I like her." In response, Gideon looked beyond shocked, and Alegra had answered him in her language, so she knew he wouldn't understand that she was really saying, "And I like you, too." Then she assumed her uncertain expression, and said, "Lord."_

 _After that, Gideon again told her to go sit with the others. And this time, in her language, she said okay. She said okay. She didn't need to resist any more; She felt she'd done her job. She'd intrigued him, she could see it in his eyes. In the way he looked at her. No more was needed...So she left._

 _Immediately, Gideon turned back to Damien, looking extremely apologetic. "Damien-," he started, but Damien stopped him with a hand. Then he asked, "So. Where did you manage to acquire her?" And Gideon replied, "I found her, just a few months back, washed up on our shore."_

 _Later, when they'd gotten up to leave, Alegra had come over, performed the most perfect half-courtsey, half-bow, if only because she didn't know which one was appropriate, and said, "Damien." His eyes widened, but not in anger, but before she could say more, Gideon dragged her away. But she looked back at him for as long as she could._

 _She'd charmed him. And when they got back to the house, she overheard Gideon telling his wife, Olivia, just how amazed he was by her. Damien had never taken to a child in the five years he'd known him; Not even one of his own, but somehow, this one had managed it. Hearing this, Alegra smiled to herself. What a promising start._

 _The year after that, Damien had remembered her name. And Gideon had continued to be amazed. By the time she was eleven, she'd managed to obtain his permission to call him by his given name. And when asked by Gideon, even he couldn't say just what it was that he liked about her. Or he wouldn't say, but Alegra suspected he knew. Which was why, for her twelfth birthday, when she had invited him over, he had said, in effect, "Yes."_

Alegra has been so caught up, she hasn't even heard the various concerned family members knocking at her door. Asking her what's wrong. Asking if she's okay. Asking to come in. But then a little voice, Jane's voice, comes through the door, making her start. "Why did Lord Vesper leave?" She asks. And Alegra replies to this, just before she falls back on her bed. "He left because he never wanted to be here."

Jane, knowing better than to go in without permission, or even continue asking questions, though this makes no sense, quietly walks away, down the stairs, trying to come up with a reason that makes it.


	4. Chapter Three: The Space Between

**[I am so thrilled that this is getting read. Thank you all so much for taking the time to do that.] :)**

 **Chapter Three**

Days go by. Damien talks to the bare minimum of people, not that he ever talks to THAT many, deeming most of humanity not worth talking to, but even those he does, he avoids. He eats as little as he can get away with; For eating has rather lost it's appeal. Alegra talks, but not very much. She eats only because she must to not arouse suspicion. Damien tries every way he can to think of a way to explain to her what happened, but he's afraid. Afraid. A foreign feeling for him. He tries to deny it, but in the end, he knows it's truth. So on the fourth day since that night, he goes to their house to talk to her. He has to. It's the only way.

He knocks on their door, and Alegra, who happens to be down at the time, answers it without thinking. For two seconds, their faces mirror each other's exactly, their expressions purely shock. Then she slams the door in his face, and runs upstairs.  
Hearing the door slam, Jane walks over, curious, and opens the door to see Damien standing there, looking so shocked, and she guesses what must have happened. But then she decides it would be better if she didn't appear to have, and pretends she doesn't know. "Finally!" She says. "You are here! Oh good, she has barely talked to anyone since you left. I will see if I can get her." Then she shuts the door, and hurries upstairs.

Gideon, alarmed at all the slamming, comes to see what's going on, and of course finds Damien standing on the front step. He doesn't look so shocked anymore, which is good, but now he's trying not to cry, which is Never good. Thankfully, Gideon doesn't appear to notice. "Damien," he says, looking a bit surprised. "What are you doing here? Did you want to come in?" He holds the door open. And whereas Alegra could have seen that his eyes said clearly, 'No', Gideon sees no such thing, so, unable to answer, Damien steps inside.

Jane knocks on Alegra's door. "Allie, Lord Vesper is here to see you." "I know," is the reply. "Come on, Allie," Jane pleads. "I'm sure he has a very good reason for leaving like that." "Yes," Alegra answers, trying not to cry. "Because he never wanted to be here." "No, Allie, that cannot be right. When we went to speak with him, he seemed pleased." A pause. "You went to speak with him?" Jane sighs. "Of course we did. You did not think we would not think to ask him, did you?" Alegra opens the door. "That doesn't mean anything. Now go tell him to leave." Jane sighs.

Meanwhile downstairs, Damien is being questioned by Gideon. "So," Gideon says. "Did you come to see Allie?" Damien inclines his head in answer. He bites his lip. "That's good," Gideon tells him. "She's barely spoken a word since you left." Damien tries to breathe normally, but his breath keeps catching in his throat. He clenches his jaw, but thankfully, Gideon appears not to notice. Alegra does, though. She's watching from her room. "A sorry coward, then," she thinks. It doesn't matter. She still won't speak to him. Not until she figures out what she's missing. Outside the door, Jane finally gives up, and turns to go back downstairs.

Gideon is just about to ask something else, when Damien is rescued by Jane returning from upstairs. She walks over to them. "Sorry," she says. "She refuses to come; she wants you to leave." A tear slips down Damien's face then, but he stands up abruptly, so no-one sees. "Fine," he says, and walks briskly out.

Once out of earshot, he stops, and leans against a tree to breathe. Instead, he starts to cry. It's a still unfamiliar feeling for him. So...Weak. And he's not used to that. He never wants to be. He covers his mouth out of habit, then sinks to his knees, and stays there for a while. Then he swipes his eyes, stands, and walks back to his manor.

 **[Time is the key, I promise. Everything will make sense in time.]**


	5. Chapter Four: The Search–Progress

**[** **The lines in Bold, unless seemingly in need of emphasis, (Which none of the ones in this chapter are,) are lines Alegra does not speak in Latin. (This is because I have not yet managed to find a reasonable spoken language to represent hers. Note that I have been trying for years.)]**

 **Chapter Four**

Back at Gideon's house, Alegra is also crying. Alone, in her room, and she wonders how she could possibly have misjudged Damien. Everything she knows, every memory she remembers, seems to dictate that she was not wrong in her impression of him. But if that's true...Why did he act as he did? So strange, so unlike himself...It just doesn't make sense. She lets herself fall back on the bed. She'll figure it out. One way or another. She closes her eyes, and remembers the second Christmas feast Gideon had taken her to.

 _It was the year 1503. Alegra was eight, now, and looking forward to seeing the man again. Damien. Gideon insisted that this time she stay out of his way, but she just smiled at him, and made a note to ignore the warning. After all, she had a job to do._

 _As it turned out, she didn't need to. When they arrived, Damien strode over to greet his friend. "Gideon," he said, smiling broadly. "Olivia," he'd nodded at her. Then his eyes had locked with hers, and she could have sworn he smiled a little broader. "Alegra," he said. "Lord," she replied, bobbing at him. He merely glanced at the others. "Children." Then Damien had led them over to his own table, now their regular table. Gideon sat next to Damien, who was at the head of the table, as usual. As if there could be another place for a Lord. She sat next to Gideon. Olivia next to her. And Jane, Katherine, Thomas, and Luke down the line next to her._

 _Alegra waited patiently while they talked, but she kept glancing over at Damien, trying to measure how much she needed to intrigue him this time. He noticed, though, and met her eyes with his dark ones several of the times. Almost as though he was looking at her, too. Noticing this, she smiled brightly at him. He stared at her. "Damien?" Gideon said, looking concernedly at him. Damien blinked. "Sorry?" He said, still looking a bit lost. Alegra grinned more widely. Then, feeling she'd intrigued him enough for the moment, cheerfully went back to staring at her plate, and listening to them talk to each other._

 _After they'd finished the meal, Alegra once again looked up. Damien's eyes were on her. Startled, he looked away, back at Gideon. She narrowed her eyes on him. Was he actually reddening? Just a touch, she decided, and grinned. Gideon, however, seemed oblivious.  
Olivia got up with the children, and was about to leave. "Lord Vesper," she said, bobbing at him. He nodded in answer, and turned back towards Gideon. Olivia grabbed Alegra's hand, and tried to pull her away, but Alegra was having none of it. "No," she said. "_ _No_ _." Olivia pulled harder. "No!" She strained against Olivia's grip. Then she snapped out a line of speech in her language, a ploy designed to get Damien's attention. It worked. Upon hearing her speaking it, Damien looked up. Alegra pulled one last time, and got away, falling to the floor in the process. Damien twitched, almost as though it had crossed his mind to help her. Seeing this, she grinned, and sprang up off the floor. Then she hurried over to Gideon before Olivia could catch her._

 _" **I'm staying with you** ," she informed him, still coding, enjoying the feel of it rolling off her tongue. She smiled brightly. "Go with Olivia, Allie," Gideon told her. "Remember what I said?" " **Ye**_ _ **s**_ _," she replied definitively, and Damien grinned at her, guessing what this meant. "It's alright, Gideon," Damien told him. "She can stay." Gideon stared at him for a moment. "No, Allie, you need to go to bed." To which Alegra had looked at him, outraged, and snapped out another line of indecipherable speech. " **What are you talking about?!** " She said. " **I**_ ** _DON'T_** **_SLEEP_** _ **!** " But he wasn't to know that.  
She looked at Damien, and saw his keen eyes watching her, trying to figure out what she was saying. She pleaded with her eyes. "Allie, Latin," Gideon had said, tiredly. "Now go with Olivia." Alegra glared at him, and stated the obvious, while bluntly disobeying his request. The obvious being, 'I want to stay with you'. She gestured at Damien. __**"And him."**_ _He was still watching her. Good.  
_ _ **"Granted, mostly him, but a-"**_ _But Gideon interrupted her. "Allie," he said, threateningly. "GO." She pulled back a bit, hurt, and Damien had almost touched Gideon's arm to make him stop, but pulled back at the last moment. Alegra had seen him move, however, and this gave her hope._ _ **"Fine,"**_ _she snapped, then turned around, and started walking, back straight, head held high. Then she stopped, turned back around, bobbed at Damien, and said,_ _ **"Lord."**_ _Then she'd walked off to join Olivia._

Alegra sobs. The way he'd looked at her back then. And that was back then! She sobs harder. How on This Earth could she have misread him?


	6. Chapter Five: Remembrance

**[Okay, so I'm REALLY nervous about this one; It's always been debatable whether I've gone too far too early. So, I would REALLY appreciate it if one of you wonderful readers of mine, AND I'm NOT just saying that, I really think you're all amazing!, would let me know what you think.]**

 **[(Crosses fingers.)]**

 **Chapter Five**

Damien, back in his own room, isn't faring much better. Sitting on his bed, head in his hands, he tries to control himself; But every breath he takes threatens to come out in sobs. He clenches his jaw, his expression angled in a way Alegra would only have described as beautiful. He tries to push the feeling to the back of his mind, but to no avail; It's too strong. He wonders how long he'll be able to fight it. If anyone sees him like this...

He recites his motto in his mind. _Kindness is a tool for the weak-minded who know no better. Fear equals power. Violence leads to control. Destruction is the key to victory and greatness._ But instead of calming him, it does the opposite; making it so unbearable that he gasps with the pain of it, tears suddenly pouring down his face. Yet underneath all of that, he feels furious with himself. This was why you never became attached to anyone. If you did that, then it was all over; You were no longer your own. And suddenly, he remembers something he hasn't thought about since it happened. Something he never wanted to think about. Immediately, his stomach clenches in protest, but the shot echoes in his head, as the memory flashes in his mind.

 _A single shot...Alegra pitched to the ground...Blood all over. Her face was so pale..."Don't punish him." Fingers touching his face. Falling away..._

He falls forwards, coughing, retching. He hasn't missed the feeling. Then he stops, and moans, putting a hand over his mouth. He remembers it. He's tried so hard not to, but he can't forget what it was like to almost lose her. To come that close. He forces himself up, and walks to his desk; Then he writes her a letter.

When he's done, he sits back, and reads through it. But instead of making him feel better, it does the opposite, tears once again coming to his eyes. Because he hasn't told her the truth. Not really. But if he tells her, that means losing her. For real, this time. And of all the things, he can't stand the thought. So he'll send it. But not now; In the morning. That will give her some time. He just hopes it's enough.


	7. Chapter Six: The Search–Something

**[Look at me, getting in early today! Sadly, now my head is rather more in a certain Creepy Warden than in Damien or Paz, but Oh well...It won't take much to get back.]  
**

 **[By the way, props to anyone who can guess who the Creepy Warden is...!] :)**

 **[The same thing applies to this Chapter; Lines in Bold (Excepting the need for emphasis,) are not spoken in English. They are Alegra taking advantage of Damien's interest. ;)]**

 **[Oh, and I Promise that this one is better, as far as me potentially not having enough control over my imagination. Back to Original Damien!...Mostly.]**

 **Chapter Six**

It's early when someone knocks on the door. Alegra, down for breakfast to not arouse suspicion, answers it. One of Damien's men is standing on the front step. In his hands, he holds a small, flat, package. He hands her a letter, addressed to her, written in Damien's own hand, and stamped with the Vesper Crest. For a moment, her heart stops. Then she hands it back to him. He won't explain a thing. He'll only tell her what he did before, and she knows that's a lie. The one thing she can't do is let herself believe it. "I don't want it," she tells him. "Take it back to him. Tell him that." The man hesitates. "NOW," she says, giving him a glare worthy of fear. He backs away, then turns, and walks back the way he'd come.

"Who was that, Allie?" Katherine asks her, when she returns. "No-one important," Alegra replies. "I took care of it." She sits back down.  
When the meal is over, she returns to her room. She sits on the bed. Then she lies down. She has to figure out if there's anything she missed. Anything that could point to a reason for his reaction. Anything to tell her why he left. Anything. So she closes her eyes, and returns to the next year.

 _1504\. They were late, and the feast had already started. Gideon met his friend's eyes in apology. Damien gave him a small nod in acknowledgement. But Alegra had waved at him from behind Gideon's back, and he smiled, though he was obviously trying not to. She smiled back._

 _After the feast was over, Alegra had jumped up before anyone could restrain her, and gone to join Gideon._ _ **"Hi!"**_ _She said, cheerfully, and obviously not to Gideon. Again, Damien tried not to smile. His dark eyes flickered over hers. She could tell he wanted to talk to her. Wanted to...But didn't know how. Well that was new; So she started talking to him, without Gideon's permission._

 _"I told them we should start getting ready earlier, but they did not listen," she said. Damien really did smile, then. Gideon frowned. "Allie," he hissed. But she was too preoccupied looking at Damien, who'd stopped himself smiling again. She glared at him, exasperated._ _ **"Oh, honestly!"**_ _She snapped._ _ **"Can't you just let yourself smile, already?"**_ _And again, he got that slight redness in his face, because he knew she was talking to him._

 _Gideon, however, didn't notice, and clamped a hand over Alegra's mouth to stop her from talking to Damien that way. She glared at him. Then he spun her around, and shoved her away from the table. She opened her mouth, but the look on Gideon's face stopped her. She sighed, bobbed at Damien, and walked away. But before that, she saw the look in his eyes. Almost a flicker of hurt. Well at least it was something._

Alegra opens her eyes to the sound of someone knocking at her door. "Allie?" Jane. She sighs. Then she gets up, and opens the door. "You just won't give up, will you?" She asks. "No!" Jane says, cheerfully. Then her young face turns serious. "I am telling you, there is a perfectly good reason for Lord Vesper leaving like that." "And I am telling you, that it was because he didn't want to be here." "And I am telling you," Jane returns. "That he would not be so." Alegra sighs, again. "And I am telling you that you are wrong. But if you must know, I am going through every memory at my disposal, since the day we met, in case you were unaware, and trying to determine if there is such a reason as you seem to think there is."

"Really?" Jane asks, smiling brightly. "Yes, and so far I have found none. And if you tell anyone else, I will hunt you down. Okay?" "Okay! Just keep looking, though, or I might have to." Alegra looks down at the floor, and for just a moment, Jane is able to see just how much this is really hurting her. But then her eyes return to Jane's face, and the moment is gone. "I will," she says, quietly.


	8. Chapter Seven: Breakage

**[Since I don't BELIEVE I have anything else to say at the beginning of this chapter, (Besides I hope it's alright,) I'd like to take the opportunity to thank all my readers; You have no idea how much this means to me. To my friends in China and Greece, just for looking. To Hungary for reading just a little bit further. You have no idea how thrilled I was to get foreigners looking at my story. Let me spell it out- Really thrilled.**

 **And of course, my friends from across the pond. How many times you all have made my day is unbelievable. Probably just about every day since I posted the story. I never expected that much, and certainly never this much. It's kind of unbelievable for me just how many views I've gotten. How many people took the time just to look, and for that, I am eternally grateful. So thank you all so, so much for this.**

 **-Paz]**

 **Chapter Seven (Otherwise Know As 'Chapter Eight'.)**

Damien is standing in his room, looking out the window, when someone knocks on his door. _Finally_ , he thinks. "Come in," he calls out softly, turning around. The door opens, and the messenger comes into view. He seems nervous, and after a moment, it becomes apparent why. He holds out a letter, and when Damien takes it, he sees it's his own. He looks up in question, anger and pain in his eyes. Not that the servant is calm enough to see it.  
"She told me to tell you that she does not want your letter, my Lord," the man says. "She said to make sure that I told you. She was very firm about it." The servant cringes as if waiting for punishment. Damien's breath comes hard, but not in anger. "You are dismissed," he says, quietly.

Once the servant is gone, Damien turns, and puts the letter on his desk. Of course she wouldn't want it. Why would she? He clenches his jaw.  
 _A shot. "Fetch Gideon Cahill. Now."_  
His jaw is shut tight, but this has no effect on his eyes, which give tears at the memory. The lock on his mind is failing. He sits down at his desk, and puts his head in his hands. That can't happen. Not now, not ever. And there's only one way to stop it, and that's for this to end. And for that, she has to read his letter. Or he has to talk to her, one of the two. So he decides to wait until evening, and go there himself.

Evening comes. Damien paces in his room, but finally gets himself together, and walks through the doors to the outside. The letter is in his hand, the hand he has to fight so hard to keep from shaking. He only wants her to read it...But he's not sure she will.

Damien arrives at Gideon's house, as he'd judged, right after dinner-time. He knocks on the door, and this time it's Katherine who answers. "Were you not here earlier?" She asks. Gideon comes to the door. "Invite him in," he tells her, sternly. Katherine backs away, and holds the door. Reddening slightly, Damien walks in.

They proceed to the couch, and Jane joins them. "Oh good!," she says, looking delighted. "I'll go get Allie." And she darts away up the stairs. Katherine also leaves, glaring at him before she does. The gesture makes him want to cry, but he blinks, and focuses on Gideon, who's eyeing the letter in Damien's hand. "That for her?" He asks. Damien nods. His friend considers him. "Why are you trying so hard?" He asks. Damien says nothing, but his eyes fill with tears Gideon doesn't see.

Gideon sighs. "I know you well, old friend, but this I do not understand. I have never understood it. Why her?" Damien bites his lip. "I don't know," he whispers. Also a lie. Gideon looks at him. "Why did you leave?" He asks, his brow creasing in thought. "All I remember is Allie getting up, then coming back inside after a minute, and running upstairs. And then not coming out of her room for the rest of the day." This specific question, this specific insight into what he'd done to her, hurts Damien more than he could say. Enough to break him. Even as strong, even as determined as he is, he folds forwards, head resting in his arms, and he starts to cry.

Gideon can only see him shaking at first. Then he hears the soft, low sobs, and he is shocked. Damien never cries. Never. But then he remembers something he'd almost forgotten. Something Damien had made him promise never to speak of, and if he could have made him promise not to THINK of it either, Gideon got the feeling he would have.  
 _Damien sitting on his bed. Sobbing so hard, so suddenly. Harder than he'd thought was possible of his friend..._

Strange is it to Gideon to think that it was only a year ago. Alegra had been shot. Damien had insisted that it was his fault, though Gideon never saw how it could have been. Damien had broken down sobbing when he'd finally told him what happened. He'd almost lost her, and that had broken him, though to this day, Gideon isn't sure why. Now this.

Gideon reaches out, and touches his friend's shaking shoulder. He moans, seems to want to draw away from the touch, so Gideon pulls back. Just then, Jane comes running back down the stairs, only to freeze at the sight before her. Then she walks tentatively forwards, until she is standing only a short distance from them. She takes a square piece of cloth out of her dress pocket, and then she holds it out.

Damien of course, with his head down, doesn't see this, so Jane prods him gently with her finger. At this, he startles. Looking up, he sees the offering; Jane's eyes are wide in innocence. So much like Alegra, all those years ago. He realizes as he looks at her, that ever since-... _No._ He shuts out the thought. Instead, through his tears, he seems almost to smile briefly at her. Then he takes the cloth, turns, and walks out the door.

 **[By the way, this chapter is 'Otherwise Known as Chapter Eight' because on my Original file, I accidentally skipped Chapter Seven. As V1 would say...Oops. ;)]**


	9. Chapter Eight: The Search–A Way In

**[** **I promise things will make much more sense very soon.]**

 **[It should also be noted that the things in bold in THIS chapter, ARE spoken in English.]**

 **[Thank you.]**

 **Chapter Eight (Otherwise Know as Chapter Nine.)**

After Damien leaves, Jane runs up the stairs to Alegra's room. She knocks repeatedly until Alegra opens the door. "What now?" She asks. "Lord Vesper just left," Jane says, speaking so quickly the words almost blur together. "Good," Alegra tells her. "So?" Jane hesitates. "What?" Alegra says. "He was crying!" Jane bursts out. "When I left, I went back down the stairs, and he was crying!" A flicker of hurt appears in Alegra's eyes, but her reply shows none. "I expect he was." "So do you not CARE?!" Jane exclaims, eyes wide in shock.  
Alegra hesitates only for a moment. "No," she says. "Just because he's sorry does not mean anything." Jane glares at her. "You are just determined, are you not?" "Determined to have something better than just him crying, yes. He's cried plenty in the time I have known him." Jane's eyes go wide again. "Really?" She asks. "Yes, and it's none of your business why." Jane sighs. "You are still looking, yes?" She asks. "Yes," Alegra replies. "Or at least I would be if you would leave me in peace." Jane glares at her. "Fine," she says, and leaves.

 _1505\. They got to the feast a bit early, this time. Alegra, now ten, and excited, of course. She couldn't wait to see Damien again. He greeted them more enthusiastically than usual. He seemed vibrant, pleased. He even smiled at Alegra._

 _It happened when Gideon left for a minute to check on the others. Alegra looked at Damien, and said, "Lord." He grinned. "You say that as though it is my name," he said. "But it is not. It is my title." She smiled innocently at him, so he decided to go for a straighter tactic. "My name is not Lord, you know. It is Damien." To which Alegra just smiled in that same innocent manner. "I know," she replied. Damien reddened slightly, looking almost uncomfortable. Then Gideon came back, and Alegra just smiled at him, and wandered off._

 _When the feast started, they sat in the same order as last year, and the year before. When the meal more or less finished, Gideon was talking animatedly with Damien. As soon as he glanced over, she made sure to smile brightly at him. She noticed he hadn't had much of his drink, yet. Unusual. He was probably just too busy with whatever conversation they were on now. Then she heard someone mention Damien, and pricked her ears to listen.  
_ _"Think it will work?" The voices were whispering. "I know not. I do not even know if 'twas managed." "Well I hope so, it would do us all a favour." A new voice joined the mix. "Yes, but poison? Is that really the way to go?" "Lord Vesper deserves it." "You said 'twas to be put in his wine?" Alegra's eyes widened. "Yes. Shame it seems he has not had much, yet." Alegra gasped. Then she picked up her spoon, aimed, and flung it at Damien's glass._

 _The spoon connected, smashing the glass, and splashing Damien with wine. He gasped, and stood, startled, and angry. For the first time, he looked angry at her. Then he glared at Gideon, turned, and ordered him to follow. Alegra watched in dismay. But it had truly been the best option; Now all she had to do was see how much he'd managed to have._

 _When Alegra scanned the place, and found out where they were, she slipped from the room, and followed. When she got there, Damien was yelling at Gideon, whose hands were raised in protest. " **Stop**!" She snapped. Immediately, Damien stopped, if only out of surprise. He glared at her. " Exactly!" She continued. "We _both _know that this is **my** fault, NOT his, so __leave him alone_ _!" Damien looked at her, shocked. Then he turned to Gideon. "Go," he said, and Gideon left._

 _Damien glared at Alegra. "What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked, angrily. " That I did it for a good reason," Alegra replied, just as fiercely. "You made me look like a **fool**!" "_ _ **For a good reason**_ _!" Alegra replied. "Now if you'd be quiet for a minute, and let me explain, we have better things to worry about!" His cheeks reddened, his eyes moistening involuntarily. But he still looked angry.  
Then he faltered; Just for a moment, and he regained his balance, and his composure, almost immediately. Still, Alegra noticed the lapse. "Are you alright?" She asked, truly concerned. He looked at her, confusion mixed with the anger. "What?" He snapped. "Are you alright?" She repeated. "Yes, I am-" but he cut off, breathing hard. "What?" Alegra asked, worried now. He stumbled, but immediately Alegra was there, doing her best in her much slighter frame, to steady him. He started to protest, but couldn't find the breath. "Come with me," Alegra told him._

 _Alegra scanned the place again, and found a storage closet, an empty one, and led Damien to it. She was worried about him; His eyes were closed half the time over. He seemed unsteady, flushed, a little too warm. By the time they got there, he wasn't even trying to complain anymore, only trying to stay on his feet; Only trying to stay dignified._

 _When she led him to a row of crates, he collapsed on one, trembling slightly. She touched his shoulder to get his attention, then stood back a bit. "Are you alright?" She asked, again. "How do you feel?" He lifted his head, and glared at her, and when he did, she noticed the drawn lines on his face. "You do not look well," she said. He glared at her more. "Thank you," he said, dryly. "What is wrong?" She asked him. "Nothing," he insisted. "Oh yes,_ _ **nothing**_ _," Alegra told him. "That definitely looks like nothing. Would you **co-operate**?, I am __trying_ _to see how serious this is!" He glanced up at her. "How serious what is?" He snapped. She glanced down for a second, hesitating. "You were poisoned," she told him. "In your drink, that's why I smashed it."_

 _He looked skeptically up at her. "Do you have a better explanation?" She asked. "Because you're certainly not_ _ **fine**_ _." He opened his mouth to speak, but then bent at the middle, gasping quietly. Unconsciously, his arms moved to touch the affected area. Alegra took this in, concerned. "Tell me how you feel," she insisted. "Sick!" He snapped at her. "Are you happy now? I feel unwell." "No, I'm not happy!" She snapped right back at him. Hearing this, he looked up at her, the anger gone from his face. Instead, he looked almost afraid. Perhaps sensing this, he looked away. "Go," he said, quietly. "I'm not going," Alegra replied, stubborn. "Leave!" He snapped. " No!" She insisted. "Please."_

 _Now that made her pause. If only a moment, before she replied. "I am_ _not_ _leaving you alone like this!" Damien opened his mouth to protest, but quite suddenly, he rolled off the crate, onto his knees, retching violently. Hidden behind the box, Alegra could only hear him, but it hurt so much._

 _When he stopped, Alegra took a step forward, but before she could say anything, he started again. This time when he stopped, he put a shaking hand over his mouth. Another step. "It is not pleasant, is it?" Alegra said, quietly. He spared her a quick glare. "Oh no, it is_ _ **pleasant**_ _," he said, sarcastically. But his voice shook slightly. She took a step towards him, but he held his hand up. "Do not come near me," he said. Then he pitched forwards, again, the one hand she_ _could_ _see clenched in a fist._

 _He stopped, and put his now-heavily-shaking hand against his mouth. She could see the tears in his closed eyes. Quietly, she stepped closer, and softly, she touched his shoulder. His eyes snapped open. "I told you to stay back!" He snapped. Then he clenched his jaw shut. But Alegra didn't take her hand away._

 _They stayed like that for a few minutes, Damien kneeling on the floor, Alegra touching his shoulder. She had to resist the urge to brush his hair out of his face. He really was beautiful, she realized. In a dignified way, although perhaps not_ so _much right now.  
_ _Finally, she spoke. "Are you feeling better yet?" He hesitated, but answered. "No," he said, quietly. "But I do not feel like I am about to be sick either, so can we move? This is not exactly comfortable." She removed her hand, and backed away. "Certainly," she said, her tone gentle as the softest caress. He tried to stand, but instead collapsed back on his knees, his fingernails digging into the crate. She could hear his shaking breaths..And it hurt.  
_ _"Would you like some help?" She asked, quietly. "No!" He snapped. "Would you like to stay on the floor?" "_ _No_ _!" For just that moment, his voice sounded on the edge of tears. Then he controlled it. Alegra looked at him. "Then you'd like some help," she said, and pulled him up before he could stop her._

 _When he was safely sitting on the crate, she looked over, and absent-mindedly snapped her fingers, cleaning up, as was her job. She didn't even think about it, and he didn't notice; He was too busy glaring at the floor. As she watched, he put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his thick dark hair. Finally getting it out of his face. He was shaking. What it must have felt like, she could only imagine. But she could do it well..She'd been there before. But what she_ didn't _know was that it was much closer a resemblance than she ever would have thought._

 _Alegra was just contemplating what to do, when she heard him sniff quietly. She knelt down so that she was more or less even with him. She brushed his shoulder with her fingertips. "Are you alright?" She asked. He flicked his eyes upward, to glare at her. "Are you seriously asking me if I am alright right now?" He snapped, but it was just a ghost. He could barely even pretend anymore. She reached out to touch his hair, hardly even knowing why she was doing it, hardly even knowing she was doing it, but he flicked his wrist, and suddenly there was a knife pointing right at her._

 _She froze, her eyes wide, scared. Seeing this, he seemed to realize what he was doing, and abruptly dropped it. It clattered to the floor, and she stared down at it, still shocked. "Leave," he said, quietly. She looked up at him. "I'm not leaving," she said. "GO," he insisted. "I am_ _not_ _leaving you!" She said. Then, more quietly, "I'm not. So you had best get used to it." Then she reached down, picked up his knife, and gave it back to him._

 _Momentarily uncovering his eyes, Damien took the knife, and re-sheathed it, sniffling quietly. Alegra, who had been watching intently, took the opportunity to once again try getting through to him. "You really do look terrible," she said, her voice gentle, and so full of an emotion even she couldn't explain. He glanced at her. "I-," his voice cracked, and he put his head in his hands. Then she touched his shoulder, and suddenly, he started to cry. Halting sobs, like he wasn't used to it. Of course he wouldn't be. She reached out, slowly, steadily, silently praying. Her fingers touched his hair, then slid through it, and this time, he didn't pull his knife. He just sat there, shaking, quietly sobbing._

Alegra opens her eyes. She can't take it anymore; She has to stop, it hurts too much to remember his pain. Because even after all this time, she can still feel it. Still feel what it was like to see him cry for the first time...And for every time after that. Letting the memories go, she closes her eyes, and drifts to sleep.

 **[Now for the tricky part...I hate to tell you all (Or, whoever few of you have made it this far,) this, but we've reached the point in the story where I must do actual writing. This means that how fast it will go from here... Is debatable. I can only ask for your patience.]  
**

 **[Now...Not that I'd usually ask, but I'd love to know what the few of you that have made it this far think. About how it's going, if I'm doing okay with the characters...I really just want to make a Good story. That's all I want, so even if it's not QUITE your thing, if it's good, I'd really love to know.  
Please?  
Okay, I'll shut up now. I promise.]**

 **[Please wait for me.]**

 **[And thank you So much for reading.]**


	10. Chapter Nine: Somewhere

**[Thank you all for your patience, so, so much. So much!]**

 **[I have so many Foreign people I don't know what to DO with myself I'm so ecstatic! Thanks so much for reading everybody!]**

 **Chapter Nine (Otherwise Known as Chapter Ten.)**

When Damien returns to his manor house, he walks to the garden, and to the bench in the middle of it. Standing next to it, he traces his hand on the edge. _A shot._ So many memories...He doesn't want to remember. So he turns around, and walks away.

As Damien sits on his bed, he tries not to remember anything, but flashes of it keep coming back to him. He doesn't want to remember...But he can't forget.  
 _"Careful...You don't want to break that..."_  
He puts his head in his hands.  
 _Cool fingers against his...Taking the glass away..._  
His face twitches, and he clenches his hands into fists against the pain.  
 _The glass disappearing back to where it belonged...Tears on his face...Her small hand sliding into his..._  
He moves suddenly to stand, but stumbles, and falls to the floor. Then his head slams into the side of the bed, and darkness overtakes him.

When Damien wakes up, it's light out. He sits up slowly, trying to remember what happened. Of course, the moment he does, he wishes he hadn't. He needs to reach her. Somehow, he needs to. He also needs to control his traitorous mind. Then something occurs to him. Gideon. Gideon knows what happened. Maybe...He shakes off the weakness of the thought. Still; He does need to talk to him. Maybe his friend will be able to share some insight. Upon having decided this, he gets to his feet, and walks out the door.

When he arrives at Gideon's house, for the first time, it's Gideon who answers. He raises his eyebrows when he sees it's Damien standing at the door, but says nothing of his feelings on the matter. All he says is, "Allie again?," though clearly expecting the answer to be yes. Seeing this makes Damien even more uncomfortable than he already was, but he forces himself to speak. "Actually, I came to speak with you," he says. "Oh!," Gideon says, obviously at least slightly surprised. "Do you want to come in?" "No offense to your house Gideon, but I would prefer not to," Damien replies. He knows that if he goes inside, he'll probably just end up crying again. "Well..." Gideon starts. "What _do_ you want, then?" Damien bites his tongue against the many things that would answer this question right now. But in the end, all he says is, "I want you to come with me."

Gideon's brow creases slightly, perhaps a warning of recognition, perhaps just confusion of a sort at the request. For surely, if Damien had wanted him to come, he would have sent someone to get him..Like last time.  
 _"Lord Vesper demands your presence." "What for?" "He did not specify. But a girl has been shot..."  
_ And that was all it had taken. How many girls were there on the Island? And how many unaccounted for? There was only one answer to that question, and he had seen it, and run out the door without even stopping to explain.

But meanwhile, Damien is beginning to look uncomfortable, so Gideon shakes himself out of it, and says, "Of course. Where are we going?" In truth, Damien had not thought about this, only about the fact that he didn't want to be _here_ , precisely where he is being, for much longer than he would have preferred to be. He doesn't have the faintest idea where they'd go; Not to his office, where any passers-by the door might hear them, and in any case, as evidenced, there were way too many memories inside the room for it to be practical, only that they go- "Somewhere," he whispers, and though Gideon is becoming worried by now, he turns, closes the door, and motions outwards into Somewhere.

For a minute, they walk in silence. But a minute is long enough to get a decent ways towards Damien's residence, and so he stops, right there along the beach, and tries to organize his thoughts enough to speak. Gideon, noticing that his friend has stopped, stops also, and turns towards him. What he sees, in that fleeting moment before Damien notices Gideon's eyes on him, concerns him. This swirling, but subtle storm of thoughts, emotions, continually flitting across his face. But then the moment passes, and a closed, neutral expression settles over Damien's features. And when he says nothing, Gideon settles to break the silence.

"What is it exactly that you want?" He asks. Damien struggles, just for a moment, with his reply. He doesn't want his friend to know too much what he really wants, because what he _really_ wants wouldn't make much sense to him. He's not even sure it makes much sense to himself.  
"Tell me what happened," he states. "What happened?" Gideon shakes his head. He can barely believe that this is what his friend is asking him. "What _happened_ , is she invited you, **we** invited you, and you came, and then you did not **_do_** anything. And then you left. Now I am going to tell you something that you should already know." Gideon looks very seriously at him. "She Loves you. Now I know not why, and I am sure that **you** of all people do not know why, and I am not even sure that **_she_** knows why, but she  does. And you _left_ her...So _you_ , Damien; You are going to tell **me** what happened."

Hearing the words out loud, those three words, nearly stops Damien's heart. Because as much as he'd like not to, he does have one. "I-," he starts, his eyes filling with tears against his will. He tries, tries so hard to come up with something to say, but all the things he wants to say but _can't_ ball up in his throat, catching on his own _overwhelming_ sense of dignity. Dignity that he knows he's losing fast, as he fights so hard to keep the tears from falling. "I-"...But the words won't come.

Gideon watches his friend with controlled alarm. He doesn't think he's ever heard Damien struggle with words, and just this once, the tears in his every way, the way his face is flushing, his eyes are gleaming, the way his jaw shudders as he tries to find words...They're too obvious to miss. Even for him.

Gideon doesn't know what to do. He's so unaccustomed to seeing Damien like this. And last time he didn't want to be touched. And Damien tries to say something, just the one more time...And then he's crying, and Gideon watches his friend sink to ground, kneeling on the sand, hands pressed together against his lips, almost as though he's praying; though of course Damien would never do such a thing. Surely not.

Gideon steps forwards. He supposes he might have expected that things would end up like this, but it surprises him every time. It always has.  
 _A bench...His friend's back is turned to him, head bowed slightly. He walks up, and puts a hand on Damien's shoulder to signal his presence. But his friend doesn't look at him...And taking one look at his face, and realizing why.  
_ Standing there, so unsure, so off-guard, Gideon tries the only thing he can think of; He tries to think of what his daughter would do. Because she always seemed to know just the right thing.  
 _Watching through the door..."Damien." Seeing her slim hand move towards his. Folding over it...  
_ So he kneels down next to his friend, and hugs him.  
Damien stiffens, obviously unsure of the move. But then he relaxes, just a little, just enough. Just enough for him to finally receive the comfort he needs.

 **[I had hoped to get further in this chapter, but all will be well. I don't want it to be too long, and we must get back to what Allie is doing if we are to be synchronized! :)]**

 **[Wish me luck!]**


	11. Chapter Ten: The Search–Touching

**[I must thank you all for your patience...1,843 words does take a long time to write. But I'm here, as fast as I could get here, and I hope you all like it, and perhaps understand a bit better.]**

 **Chapter Ten**

Back at the house, Alegra is, for once, completely unaware of what is going on, merely focusing on her dinner, which of course, she is being forced to eat...If only by herself. But today, she's not even bothering to pretend to be okay, and everyone at the table can see the drawn lines beneath her eyes, though none of them dare to say anything about it. That is, until the end of the meal, when Katherine finally speaks up. "Are you alright, Aliie?" She asks. Alegra gets up to take her dish to the kitchen. "Fine," she says, walking away, then coming back; Only to turn to go back upstairs again.

"Allie!" Alegra stops when she hears Jane's voice behind her. At the bottom of the stairs, she turns. Jane's face is open, and questioning. "I know you are not fine," she says. "Why is it that you say that?" Alegra looks sadly at her. "It is Human Nature, did you not know, Jane? That compulsion to lie about how you really feel." Jane looks questioningly at her. "What is 'Compulsion'?" She asks. Alegra ponders for a moment. "Think of it as..A feeling that you Must do something." Jane seems to ponder this a minute before answering. "Why?" She asks. And at this, for the first time in days, Alegra smiles; If only for a moment. "Because, Janie...Sometimes it is easier that way."

Jane looks curiously at her. "I am not sure I understand why it would be so...But that does not matter so much right now. You will tell Me how you feel, won't you?" "I am afraid it is not so simple as that," Alegra replies. "I cannot easily explain how it is that I feel. And it would not matter anyway." "I think it would matter," Jane protests. Alegra smiles softly. "And that, Janie; That is why I love you," Alegra tells her. "Not because we are Family?" Jane asks. Alegra smiles, even though she still seems sad. "That too," she says, softly.

"Well at least tell me why you seem so sad, today," Jane pleads. Alegra considers it. "Please?" Jane persists. A flicker of a smile crosses Alegra's face. "You just won't give up, will you?" She says. Hearing the familiar words, Jane smiles at her. "No!" She says, eyes slitted in pleasure. Then they widen as she focuses on Alegra. "Very well, then," Alegra tells her, but then sighs as she remembers. "It is because last night...Last night, it was hard to remember."

Jane's eyes widen. "You mean you could not remember?" She says. Alegra narrows her eyes, trying to think of a better way to explain. "No..." She says. "It was hard...Because I **could** remember." "What do you mean?" Jane asks. "I mean..." Alegra pauses, trying to think. "Do you know when you see someone you care about, and they are hurting, and it makes you hurt, too?" "You mean like I am worried about you now?" Jane asks, her eyes so innocently so. "Oh Janie," Alegra sighs. "I am sorry if I worry you. But it won't be like this forever...Soon, I will find what I am looking for...Or I will find nothing; And either way it will be over."

Jane considers her for a moment. "But why do you not just talk to Lord Vesper? I am sure he would explain." "Yes, I am sure that he would," Alegra agrees. "Well why not, then?" Jane asks. Alegra sighs. "Because he would not explain truthfully," she replies. "He would not tell me what it is that I want to know, that I need to know; And I would love him too much to argue."

Jane's smooth brow creases as she tries to comprehend what Alegra is telling her. "But why would he not tell you the truth?" Alegra smiles gently. "To protect himself, Janie. Much like I do against everyone else in this house." "But if you know it, why is it so bad?" Jane questions her. Alegra hesitates. "Because I am afraid that he is hiding something more than how he feels," she tells her, quietly.

"Why would you think that?" Jane asks, still looking lost. Alegra sighs, her own brow creasing as she tries to define it. "Because it does not make sense," she says. "The way he acted is not like him, not at all, not with me, not anymore... There is something I am missing, something he hides, something that will make it make sense. There must be...And I am not stopping until I find it."

Jane looks at the floor. "If you say so," she says. "But I wish you would be happy again..." Alegra's face twitches as the words stab her heart. The one thing about never having had a family was that she never learned...Never learned that how she felt, and how she acted affected other people, too. "I will be," she promises. "I promise, Janie...I will be." Then she kisses her gently on the head, and walks away up the stairs.

 _It's 1505 again..."My name is not Lord you know. It is Damien."..."Yes, but poison? Is that really the way to go?"..."What do you have to say for yourself?" "That I did it for a good reason."..."Come with me."..."I am trying to see how serious this is."... "Go." "I'm not going."..."It's not pleasant, is it?"..."Would you like to stay on the floor?"..."Then you'd like some help."..."Are you okay?"..."Leave." "I'm not leaving."..."I-"..._

 _They're on the crate. She had waited only moments before daring to sit next to him; And he hadn't complained. Now she waited for him to stop crying, patiently, quietly, her hand resting just below his hairline to the base of his neck, the soft warmth barely registering; and yet meaning the world just to have it there. And slowly, slowly, it worked, and he trembled less often, his breath catching less often, until finally, he fell silent, head still tilted downwards._

 _After a minute like that, measuring the seconds by minutes themselves, lost in who-knows-what-thoughts, or perhaps just in feeling, Damien finally removed his hands, and wiped his eyes. "How do you feel?" Alegra questioned, softly, removing her hand, but letting it brush his side on the way down. He swallowed. "Better," he said, quietly. "Not significantly, but..." His shoulders twitched, as his gaze found the floor. He looked tired, she realized, and how could she blame him? "But any better is still something," she said, softly. "I know you probably think I cannot understand..." And after that, unsure of what to say, she fell into silence again._

 _Damien turned his head ever-so-slightly to look at her; If only out of the edges of his eyes. "When I said my name was Damien..." He told her, quietly. "I meant that that was what you could call me." Alegra looked at him, that same gentle expression resting over her face. Then she leaned forwards, just enough that her lips brushed his hair. "I know," she whispered. Then she leaned just a little closer, until the tip of her nose nudged his hair, and rested her forehead lightly against the side of his. And while laying hands on a Noble might have been punishable by death, this girl didn't know that... And the Noble she was laying hands on didn't care._

 _"I have to go back," he told her, his quiet voice rasping gently. And when she looked at him, she knew it was no use to put up a fight. "Okay," she said. So they walked back, and right up until the point that they were at the door to the Feasting Hall, he let her help him. But when they reached that door, he let go of her, pushed the door open, and walked in without her. He didn't even say a word._

 _As it turned out, the Feast had already more or less finished. So when Damien walked back in, now thankfully no-one much paid him mind, or perhaps they just knew better than to act that way, but Gideon looked up at him, a questioning expression on his face. He walked over to bid them farewell, and of course, Alegra darted up behind Gideon as if she'd never left, and he paid her no mind, as though she'd never been with him. And Gideon was about to ask what happened, but another question found his tongue when he looked up into Damien's face, and though masked, saw the drawn lines beneath his eyes._

 _"Are you alright?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them; He should have known better than to question Damien's health. But Damien took it in stride, though of course revealed nothing. "Fine fine," he assured him, and Alegra had to admire his bravado; He was truly acting as though nothing had happened.  
"Just lost track of the time," Damien continued, his lips twitching as though inclined to smile in amusement of it all. While meanwhile, Alegra's jaw was slowly opening in shock at his mastery. She would have thought anyone who had been through what he had wouldn't be _capable _of covering so well. "Alright," Gideon responded, though clearly a little bemused. All the same; He seemed to believe him.  
_ _And then it was time to go. Gideon motioned for everyone to leave, a bit like herding sheep, really, but thankfully Olivia was helping him, or else he might never have managed, but Alegra...Alegra turned to look at Damien just standing there, watching them leave, and she couldn't bear it. She knew what happened, even if no-one else did. And no way on ANY Earth was she going to leave him like that._

 _So she broke away. Turned, and used the advantage of Gideon and Olivia's distraction with the others to run back to him. Then she stopped, just short of him, and she grabbed his hand, fingers sliding into place against his. His eyes widened, his blocked expression opening into something softer, and more unsure. And that was all the time she had, but it was enough. And she may not have known, but feeling those smaller fingers gripping his, seeing the expression on her face that said so clearly that she truly cared...It was just what he'd needed._

Alegra opens her eyes, that last image of Damien's face still imprinted on her eyes. Then she gasps, her hands trembling with pain, longing, and un-understanding. How could that man...The man who had looked at her with that open, unsure expression when she grasped his hand just to tell him that she cared...Be the one who had run out on her, on her birthday, with no explanation as to why?

 **[With special thanks to my followers, who keep me going.]**

 **[Thank you.]**


	12. Chapter Eleven:The Realization of Gideon

**[I would like to thank everyone for being so amazingly patient with me. (Either that or you just forgot about me entirely.) Timing isn't my strong suit, so I was trying to figure out how the timing went. A bit of a case of Writer's Block and lack of time didn't help. Not to mention it's rather a long chapter, despite the fact that I Do try not to have those. I hope this satisfies those of you who WILL continue to read.]**

 **Chapter Eleven**

Eventually, Damien stops crying, and Gideon pulls away just enough to look at him; Though he's sure that the way Damien looks, his friend wouldn't want him looking. 'Now will you tell me what is wrong?' Gideon asks. Damien wipes his face with his hands, clearing it of excess moisture. Then he shifts back, moving to stand. Seeing this, Gideon gets to his feet. And Damien tries to stand, but his legs tremble with the strain, and he loses his balance.

Instinctively, Gideon catches his friend's arm to steady him, but in an instant he does, and shrugs Gideon off. 'I don't need your help!,' he snaps, and it's then that Gideon breaks, just a little. 'Well you could have fooled me!' He snaps right back. 'Just a minute ago you were crying on the ground, what is it with you and this girl?!' ' **I don't know**!' Damien yells. 'You keep asking me, over, and over, well I STILL DON'T HAVE AN ANSWER!' 'Well I would like one, Damien, because she is  my Daughter, and I STILL do not understand it!' 'You **NEVER have**!' 'YES, Damien,' Gideon tells him. 'That is correct. All these years, since the moment you met her...Now you being intrigued by her, that I can understand...You and your fascination with things you do not know. The possibility of new knowledge..But THIS?...' He trails off. 'No Damien...This I do not understand.'

Damien looks at him, at once furious and deeply upset. 'Well what makes you think that **I** do?' He snaps, attempting to control the waver in his voice. 'Please, my friend, do not lie,' Gideon tells him. 'You **must** understand  something.' Damien glares at him. 'I understand that I-..' He breaks off, turning away, beginning to walk. 'Damien!' Gideon calls after him. But Damien doesn't stop walking.

Gideon twitches in frustration. ' **Why** are you being so  unreasonable, Damien?!' He bursts out, unable to stop himself. Then, Damien stops. 'What is it, is it because of what happened? Because it is easier to be angry with me than to face me afterwards?' Damien clenches his teeth. 'Do you think this is not awkward for me, Damien?' Gideon continues, oblivious of his friend's reaction. 'Do you think that it is _easy_? It is not. It has **never** been.'

Damien turns to look at him at the mention of 'Never'.  
 _Sobbing on the bed next to Gideon...Hurting too much to even hate the tears...  
_ He turns back away, but not before Gideon sees the change in his friend's eyes, like some small, subtle door opening, for just a moment. 'Wait, Damien!' He calls. Damien remains where he is; Not moving further away, but not coming back, either. Gideon ponders hurriedly for a moment. That look...It seems familiar. Then it clicks. 'That is the problem, is it not, Damien?' He asks, but it's more of a statement than a question, for Gideon finally realizes the source of the problem; Not here in the present, but in the past. 'I know you said never to speak of it, but under the circumstances...' 'Under the circumstances you would be well-advised to stay away from the subject,' Damien tells him, quietly. Gideon takes a step forwards. 'Damien,' he says.

 _'Damien...'...Fingers touching his...  
_ Damien breathes in, a gently shuddering breath. Real fingers touching his, grasping, trying to turn him towards the owner of those fingers.  
 _'You're so thin...What happened to you?'..._  
'Stop,' Damien whispers; A barely voiced plea for mercy. But Gideon does not stop. 'I know you care for her,' he says. 'I know not why, but I know that.' He pauses. 'Please, my friend, look at me.' But Damien does nothing. 'You almost _lost_ her,' Gideon continues, after a moment. 'And you never talk about it.'  
 _A shot...Blood...'Don't punish him.'..._  
'Please, Gideon..' Damien's hands are trembling now, and tears come to his already-closed eyes. 'You forbade me from mentioning it,' Gideon continues. 'And neither do you. I would say it is like you have forgotten, but that clearly is not the case. So perhaps I should say that it is like you are trying with all your power to _forget_.'

'Would you blame me if I was?' Damien whispers, tears creeping into even that little a sound. Gideon closes his eyes, and shakes his head, though he knows Damien can't see him. 'No,' he says, quietly. 'But it is not the answer, Damien. As is evidenced.' 'Well if I could just forget,' Damien whispers. 'Than I would be perfectly fine.' Gideon shakes his head. 'But Humanity is not meant to work that way, Damien. We are not meant to forget things, just because they are painful. We live, and we learn, and that is our purpose. It is only in _not_ learning that we hurt ourselves the most.'

Damien shudders, even then realizing the truth in his friend's words. He _is_ like this because he didn't learn. But he **can't** face what happened; Can't face those memories. He was not built for pain.  
'This was a bad idea, Gideon,' he says. 'I apologize for taking your time.' He tugs his hand free, and starts to walk, hoping, praying that Gideon doesn't stop him. However, today is not for luck, because Gideon _does_ stop him. 'Damien, please do not walk away from me,' his friend pleads. Damien bites tongue. 'I must,' he says, quietly. ' _Why_?' Gideon asks. Damien takes a breath. 'Because I cannot stay here,' he replies. ' **Why**?' Gideon repeats, watching his friend carefully. Damien puts a hand to his mouth, tears biting at his closed lids.  
 _'I know what it's like.'...  
_ Damien breathes in, the shuddering in it clearly audible.  
 _Fingers sliding up against his hand...A look of soft understanding...A flicker of long-closed eye-lids...  
_ He swallows, his damp hand trembling against his lips.  
 _'i will be okay, Damien...I promise.'...A-  
_ Damien twitches sharply, jerking himself out of the memory before he can finish it. But even almost remembering is enough..  
Gideon hears the sharp intake of breath, and then after a moment, the soft coughing sound that upon revisiting the memories of last year, he knows so well...His friend is crying.

Gideon sighs, and puts a hand on his friend's shoulder. 'You are just not having a good day, are you?' He says. He wraps his arm around Damien's side, and pulls him forwards. 'Come on. Let us go somewhere where we can sit down.' Damien doesn't resist, only because he is fighting so hard not to break down again. That memory...That one memory...He can never remember it. It was wrong, it never should have been that way...But it had been so wonderful, that if he remembers it now, he will never stop crying for the pain of having lost something so special.

Damien doesn't even notice that Gideon is leading him back to his own Manor-House, but then they get there, and Gideon leads him to the bench in the Garden, and when he sits down, he finally realizes where he is. He bolts up in an instant, stumbling backwards, while Gideon watches him, shocked by his reaction. Standing a few feet away, hands shaking, Damien stares at the bench, ghosts and blank horror flitting over his face.

 _Sitting on the bench...Gideon's hand on his shoulder...'Damien...'...  
_ His hands move up to his face, dragging themselves through his hair as he tries so hard to block it out.  
 _'I care about her, too, Damien...She IS my daughter.'...  
_ Damien gasps, half-moaning as his hands grasp his head, fingers digging into his skin, tears falling unchecked from his squeezed-shut eyes. And Gideon watches, thoroughly concerned, slightly taken aback, and pained to see his friend's face breaking, clearly hurting beyond anything he would have thought possible.

 _'I am sorry, my friend...If there was anything more I could do..You know that I would.'...  
_ Damien gasps for breath, trying so hard to drag himself out of the memories...But they're so strong.  
 _'Even I cannot say what happens now..'..._

Finally, Gideon manages to move. 'Damien!' He says, and Damien startles, feeling that firm hand grasping his arm. And when Damien looks at him, Gideon is alarmed by the way his friend seems to be searching every line of his face for a distraction, for a way to not go back to wherever he had been...To wherever it is that he goes so often now.

Gideon wonders what to do. Things like this have never been his strong suit, especially with Damien. But his friend needs him, this he knows, because Damien is pleading with him, even though he doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to.  
'Damien,' he starts. " _You need more than that_ ," he thinks frantically at himself. 'Talk to me!' He bursts out; For lack of anything else to say.

Damien's mouth opens, expression to say that he's obviously a bit taken aback by the force of the demand. And for a moment, he considers it. How freeing it would be to talk, to for once say everything that was on his mind...But in the end, it all comes back to the same thing. That same thing that Alegra had fought so hard against, worked so hard to rid him of, at the very least in her presence, alone. Pride.

 **[Once again, I would like to say that eventually, everything will make sense. In theory.]**

 **[Thanks!]**


	13. ChapterTwelve:The Search–After the Feast

**[I HAVE GERMANS! That's new! And wonderful! Thanks guys!] :)**

 **Chapter Twelve**

Alegra wakes up to the sound of someone knocking at her door. Slipping from the bed, she opens the door to find Jane staring up at her. 'Are you not coming to dinner?' She asks. Inwardly, Alegra groans. Another meal? 'Yes yes,' she says instead. 'I am coming.' And she steps out, closes the door, and follows Jane down the stairs.

They arrive downstairs to the incredulous looks of the rest of the family already seated at the table. 'Did you forget that there are three meals in a day, Allie?' Katherine asks her. Alegra bites her lip. '...Yes?' She ventures. 'Well that is not allowed, young lady,' Olivia tells her. 'I care not how upset you are with his Lordship, you cannot forget your meals.' 'Yes, mother,' Alegra murmurs, and sits down at the table.

After dinner is finished, and Alegra has once more sought to return upstairs, this time it's Katherine who stops her. 'Why do you continue to do this?' She asks from behind Alegra. Alegra startles slightly, then turns to look at her. 'Why do I continue to do what?' She returns, slightly confused. Katherine bites her lip, searching for the right way to describe what she means. 'This thing with Lord Vesper. This...' She sighs. 'This.'

Alegra considers her, though her expression is sad. 'I am afraid that I am still unclear what you mean by "This".' Katherine sighs in exasperation. 'Whatever is causing you to be upstairs all the time! We all miss you, Allie. I mean, maybe not Luke, but...' She trails off. 'I mean, why not either forget about it, or just _see_ him already?' Her voice has taken a slight edge. 'All this sitting around seems quite unproductive!' Alegra almost smiles at the wording. 'Well, it may seem that way, but in actuality...' And here she hesitates. 'In actuality, I am just trying to figure out what precisely is wrong with him.'

Katherine holds her tongue for precisely three seconds. 'But **_why_**?!' She bursts out. 'Everything you are with him, Allie, he is not _worth_ it!' Alegra looks taken aback, just for a moment, before settling herself again. 'And how do you figure that?' She asks, trying to keep her voice even around the tears threatening to make themselves present. 'Because Lord Vesper...' Katherine sighs, pondering. 'He does not have friends. He is not a nice person. It is a well-known fact..' Alegra's eyes sadden further. 'I know he is not as good to everyone as he is to me. But Katherine, you must understand also that there is a difference between being nice, and being capable of loving someone.'

Katherine's eyes widen. 'You think that Lord Vesper loves you? Lord Vesper does not love _anyone_ , Allie!' Alegra feels a part of her break. 'Oh, and when did you become such an expert?!' She snaps. 'There is a lot of Damien that you do not, have never, and _will_ never see! Why do you assume I am wrong?' 'From experience? Did you forget that I am older than you, Allie?' 'You are not!' Alegra retorts. Katherine looks almost surprised. 'You are twelve. I am fifteen. I am sure that that is a whole three years that makes me older than you.' Alegra opens her mouth to tell Katherine that she is in fact seventeen years old, and therefore two years older than Katherine, but catches herself. Instead, she lapses on her speech. 'That doesn't mean I don't know better,' she mutters. 'Not at all.'

Katherine sighs. 'Whatever. Waste your time on him. But he WILL disappoint you, Allie.' 'You're _wrong_!' Alegra cries, the tears finally spilling down her face. 'He IS capable, and he CAN be good. I know that, I can _see_ it!' She pauses only to take a breath. ' Why can't you?'

Katherine waits only a heartbeat before answering. 'Because it is illogical. Now I concede that he has broken his pattern with you. He cannot possibly view you as useful, and yet he bears with you anyway. He even _appears_ to care for you, and that in itself is a strangeness.' She sighs. 'Do what you wish, Allie. But do not believe that too fully. _I_ could be mistaken about the matter...Or **you** could be. Just remember that. Please, Allie.' She pauses, then says, much more quietly. 'I wish not to see your suffering.' And this sobers Alegra more than anything. Sobers, but does not stop her from turning, and walking back up the stairs to her room.

For a minute, Alegra just sits there on her bed, pondering Katherine's words. ' _He WILL disappoint you._ ' But she was wrong. She had to be. She _knew_ Damien, and he wasn't like that. Not like what Katherine had said. Still, it bothers her. There must be SOME reason for Katherine saying those things. Only strengthening her resolve, she flops back, and closes her eyes.

 _It's 1505 again. The morning after the Feast, and Alegra was anxious about Damien. She doubted he was fully better, and desperately wanted to check up on him. However, considering that he was on the Mainland, and they were not, this would be more difficult then one might expect.  
Skipping down the stairs for breakfast, Alegra pondered her options. Being to their knowledge ten, it's not like she could just go by herself. So she would have to get the others to agree. That in itself could be tricky. But even if she got to the Mainland...How would she get to Damien?_

 _'Can we go shopping?' The first words that seemed plausible came from her lips. 'Shopping?' Olivia returned. 'Any particular reason?' Alegra thought for only a heartbeat. 'Because I want to go to the Village. I enjoy it. Is there nothing we need?' 'Ooh!' Katherine piped up. 'Can we? I could get a book! PLEASE, Mother...' Meanwhile, Jane just looked hopefully onwards, expression oddly mimicked in Alegra's face, though Alegra was holding back...Waiting, holding her breath, and trying not to seem too desperately eager. Olivia pursed her lips and sighed, pondering for a minute. Then, 'I suppose we could pick up a FEW things...' And Alegra let that breath out slowly._

 _They reached the Mainland, and Alegra counted out the steps. 'Getting to the Mainland...Check. Now I JUST have to get to Damien...' It was the truth, she reasoned. She really did like to see the Village, even after these three years...However, that only made her feel slightly less guilty about manipulating them. And worse, how would she get away? She knows where Damien's Castle is, but how would she get there, unless she...Slipped away from them? And if she did that...How on Earth could she ever forgive herself?_

 _Musing as they went through the shops, walked through the streets, Alegra didn't even notice how lost and drawn her face was getting until she felt that small pull on her sleeve, and looked down to see Jane staring worriedly up at her. 'Allie? Is something wrong?' Alegra opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again, finally, instantly, deciding on a plan. A flexible one. 'Yes, I'm afraid. Um...Can you keep a secret for me, Jane?' Jane's face looked so innocently worried that it was almost breaking her heart to think of what she was about to do. 'Yes, of course,' Jane answered. 'What is wrong?' Alegra pursed her lips, every part of her being wanting to fight this, but there was one thing she'd realized: There was no other way._

 _'I cannot tell you. Not now. But there...There is something that I need to do. And something I need_ you _to do.' Alegra took out a scrap of parchment, and scribbled down a quick message. Then she folded it up, and handed it to Jane. 'Do not open this now. When they notice I am not here, will you give this to Olivia? Please?' 'But Allie-,' Jane started, but just then, Katherine called out to them over her shoulder. 'Hey, you two! Quit lagging!' And while that distracted Jane, Alegra quickly slipped away._

 _Alegra ran. All the way to the Castle, she ran, tears streaming down her face as she hoped they didn't worry too much, and silently begging their forgiveness. But her assignment was top priority. It was her job, and she had to do it. As much as she hated that, it was true. She couldn't just wait. She had to act. Had to._

 _Arriving at the Castle doors, she pondered her options. The likely-hood that they would let her walk straight through to Damien was insanely slim. However...Maybe..._ Just _maybe. So she knocked on the door, and, the second it was opened, dashed through it._

 _Never pausing, not for one moment as the Guards gave chase, she consulted her inner map. "Damien," she thought, and knew where he was. So she ran. Faster than she had ever run, trying to keep ahead of the Guards, trying to just make it there in time so that it wouldn't all be in vain._

 _Bursting through the door at top speed, she barely even registered Damien whirling around, quite startled. Registering the desk in front of her, she skidded to a stop...But not quite in time. She squeaked as she hit it, and fell to the floor. Damien's eyes were wide, and bemused; But he noticed it was her, and barked the order at the Guards who burst in after her. 'Stay your hand!' They stopped immediately. 'She is a guest. You may leave.' And from her place down on the floor, Alegra smiled slowly to herself. She had been right._

 _The Guards hesitated, obviously unsure of the order, but it took only the cocked eyebrow of Damien Vesper to send them hurriedly on their way. Only then did he turn his attention to Alegra, who was just picking herself up off the floor. 'Well this is a surprise,' he commented drily. 'What brings you here? And what brings you here **alone**?' It was not lost on her the amount of emphasis he put on that word. So she lifted her eyes to his face, and said, just as straightly as he had, 'I came here for you.'_

 _Damien's eyes widened, mouth opening, but the words didn't come. He swallowed. 'What do you mean?' 'I mean that I was concerned about you,' she replied. 'Last night-,' 'Last night is a forbidden subject,' he informed her. 'Well, I guess I will be breaking the rules then, because I just deserted my family and ran all the way here to make sure you were okay, and I do not intend to leave without an answer.' He pursed his lips, pondering what to do. Finally, 'I am fine,' he conceded. 'Completely better.' 'Forgive me if I do not believe you, Damien,' she said, and his eyes widened at the use of his name. 'But your attitude and posture say differently.' His eyes narrowed, becoming on guard; For of course, she was right. He did not feel completely better at all._

 _'Your attitude is the same one you used with Gideon last night, while denying the fact that anything had happened. Your posture indicates a protectiveness of self, a caution in the way you stand, move, that would not be present if you were better. Hence...You have not recovered. And I was right.' Damien's jaw had fallen slightly, eyes taking on a glistening at just how well she could read him. 'How did you-...?' But he couldn't even finish the question. Alegra looked somberly at him. 'Growing up with six other people makes you perceptive,' she answered. 'Especially when you...' She paused, looking uncertain of whether she should finish. But it was his turn, now. 'When you **what**?' He asked. She looked at him for just another moment before dropping her eyes, and answering. '_ Care _,' she said._

Alegra opens her eyes. Wide, and almost blank, all she can see are the memories she left. Not the room, not even the ceiling directly above her...Just the memories. It's time for a break. A break before she loses herself entirely. She's looking for Damien, for an answer, for a key, **the** key...But the question she really has to answer, is what is the _price_ of that knowledge she seeks?

 **[I'm so sorry this took such a long time..And that it's so long. Hopefully next chapter will be much shorter. Thank you! :)]**


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